COPS TURN UP THE HEAT ON SIXTH

Police officers working the beat along Sixth Street have this stern message
for drug dealers: It will be costly to do business here.

The amount of drug-related arrests for the past six months back up the message.

During that period, police made an average of 375 drug busts per month
along the troubled corridor.

"It's gotten to the point where some of the brighter drug dealers are now
staying away from Sixth Street," Lt. Mark Swendsen said.

"The heat is on year-round throughout this entire city. We've got a bunch
of captains who are on crime like sharks on wounded fish."

Last week, in one of the biggest busts to date, police seized 300 crack
rocks from dealers on Sixth Street. On Monday morning, police seized
another 55 crack rocks in the neighborhood.

Officer Gary Constantine, a 20-year veteran of the force who patrols Sixth
Street on foot, admitted there was more of a police presence in the area.

The impact of more eyes on the street put a dent in some businesses that
catered to dealers, including a local clothing store. Crack merchants, who
once came in weekly to buy $500 worth of merchandise, are now not as
prominent, a local merchant said.

On average, officers in the district make close to 9,000 arrests a year,
said Capt. Tony Parra of Southern Station. About 20 percent of those
arrests revolve around the two blocks of Sixth Street between Market and
Mission streets.

"The philosophy will always be that the heat is on, 365 days a year, 24
hours a day," Parra said.

Still, officers who enforce the law realize the solution to cleaning up the
crime corridor involves the surrounding community -- including action from
the District Attorney's Office, tougher city legislation and resident
vigilance, as well as businesses that don't cater to the lowlifes.

Almost every officer gets frustrated when an arrest they make results in a
dropped case -- or when offenders get out only after a few days in jail,
Swendsen said.

Many of those netted have multiple offenses on their records, with a range
of 20 to 100 prior arrests that stretch back more than a decade, he said.
But they bounce from a short, two-week stay in county jail back to the
streets, only to get arrested again.

Take a woman who goes by the alias Monique Woodson, for instance. Police
arrested her Monday for throwing a bag of crack into Jessie Alley off Sixth
Street. She is already on probation for possession of crack for sale.

Court records indicate she was arrested as early as 1988 for auto theft,
but has been bouncing from 16 days in county jail back to the streets,
where she has been arrested numerous times for robbery, possession of crack
for sale and public drunkenness.

To his credit, District Attorney Terence Hallinan has been more responsive
to prosecuting crimes on Sixth Street, Swendsen said. He lauded the posting
of Assistant District Attorney Michael Menesini, who Hallinan assigned to
an office on the street, as a way of bringing the community together.

"We've got a lot of people who are mad as hell and not going to take it any
more," Swendsen said.

One of them is Ana B. Arguello, manager of the Seneca Hotel. She runs a
zero-tolerance policy for crack in the residential building and wishes it
would apply outside the gates as well.

"Keep it up," she said. "It's working."

But she said police need to keep an eye on the alleyways when the
temperature goes up. More crack users surface on those days.

Not that anyone should expect miracles.

"Sixth Street didn't happen overnight," Swendsen said. "It's going take
time as well to clean it up."

During his watch, Swendsen said officers would be concentrating on making
drug arrests because other crimes, such as robbery, assault and
altercations, often ensue when dealers fight over territory and money.

At least one Sixth Street resident, Freddy Cowper, is pleased with the
efforts so far.

"I can walk down the streets now," Cowper said. "I can walk down the street
and get to work on time. It's cleaner."

"We're going out there and trying to knock the teeth out of drug use,"
Swendsen said. He wants to send a message to dealers -- find other places
to sell dope.

"I hope they find religion and get a decent job," he said. "I hope they go
somewhere other than San Francisco."